His shoulders shook as he chuckled, even as his breath came faster and his fingers began to venture down over my breasts. “Good thing, as I didn’t get any ravioli at all.”
“It was a figure of speech.” I gasped out the last word, not even caring what I was saying since Nicky’s forefinger and thumb had just closed around my nipple.
With admirable agility, he managed to leap over the back of the sofa, ranging his body alongside mine. “Relax, sweetheart. Let me make you forget about ravioli and figures of speech and shit that went on today at work. Just ... be.”
I might have replied, but Nicky began easing the skirt of my dress up my thighs, and the way it felt as the silky material dragged along my thighs drove me crazy. Dropping to the floor, his hands on my knees as he parted them, his eyes fastened on mine.
“Look at how pretty you are,” he murmured. “Half the time, you’re going about your day, getting ready to leave for the office or to complete some engagement on behalf of my family, and you have no idea how beautiful, how sexy you are. You don’t realize how completely you undo me, just by the simplest movement or the way you glance at me over your shoulder. Your brand of sexy destroys me because it is so effortless. You’re simply you, who you always are, who you’ve always been. And you, my Ky, are the sort of sexy that I will crave and desire for the rest of my life.”
With fingers that weren’t quite steady, I reached my hand down to cup his face. “Nicky,” I breathed. “I love you.”
His lips curved into a smile, and he moved between my legs, his fingers venturing up my inner thighs. I watched, entranced, as he spread me open and teased my pulsing core before slipping my panties out of the way.
“When I drive you over the edge in a moment, I want to hear you scream my name. I want to know that you’re thinking of me, to know that I’m filling every fiber of you.” His mouth covered me, and suddenly, my entire world shrunk to the space between us. Nothing else existed but Nicky’s lips sucking, his tongue stroking and the subtle vibration as he spoke softly against my aching, needing flesh.
I arched my back, needing him closer, climbing ever higher and ever closer to the pinnacle of pleasure I was blindly seeking. My hands gripped Nicky’s head, my heels dug into the floor, and I thrust myself against him, mindless of anything but the two of us, here, now.
And when I plunged into the swirling miasma of ecstasy, of course it was his name tumbling out of my mouth until I was hoarse, shaking and completely spent.
As bad days went, this one ended on a surprisingly high note.
Later, as we sat at our table eating the salad that my husband had made, I glanced up at him, my brows drawn together.
“Nicky.”
“Hmmm?” He smiled at me, but the expression in his eyes was almost absent-minded, as though he were thinking about something else entirely.
“Do you think we make love too much? Do we use sex to solve our problems? Or to avoid them altogether?”
Nicky choked, coughing violently on the bite of lettuce he’d just taken. Once he could speak again, he shook his head and glared at me. “Where the devil did that come from? My answer, by the way, is hell, no. We don’t have too much sex. I’m pretty sure there’s no such thing.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I was just ... thinking.” I twisted my napkin between my fingers. “Sometimes I’m a little annoyed with you, or I want to talk about things, and instead, we end up in bed.” I jerked my head back toward the living room. “Or on the sofa, as the case may be.”
“So you feel as though you’re using sex to avoid conversation?” Nicky took a long drink of his water. “Or that somehow, I’m subtly re-directing us down that path, rather than discussing our problems?”
“Well, when you put it that way, not exactly,” I admitted. “I was just musing that we have a lot of sex.”
“And thank God for that,” he replied fervently. “I like that about us. It works for me.”
“I’m hardly complaining, either.” I shrugged. “But I just came home, preoccupied about a situation at work, and instead of telling you all about it, I asked you to, you know.” I rolled my hand. “Do what you did for me.”
“I’d do it again.” Nicky winked, and then his expression faded into something more serious. “Do you want to tell me about whatever happened at work? You know, I’m more than happy to listen to you. Any time.”
I considered. “Not really. It’s probably nothing, just my over-active imagination at play. I think I’m so worried about not doing a good job at Honey Bee, at the prospect of letting down Honey now that my focus is split, that I tend to see problems where none exist.”
“Do you need to cut back on your engagements for the Queen, so that you feel better about your job?” Nicky slid his salad bowl aside and reached for the takeaway containers.
“No.” I shook my head emphatically. “I like doing both. I’m actually not doing badly at juggling both.”
“Okay, then.” He scooped a healthy portion of penne onto his plate. “Here’s my take on everything. We’re newlyweds. Not only that, we’re newlyweds who spent a long time apart during our courtship, because of the whole you-living-in-America deal, while I was here in Britain. So we’re not only expected to be having lots of sex as a couple who are just married, but we’re also making up for lost time.”
I laughed. “All right, then. I feel totally justified now.”
“Plus, sex is an expression of the depth of love I feel for you, Ky. I never want you to doubt that love. I’m male, and it’s my favorite way to show you how much I care.”
“Now that is something I can run with.” I reached across the table and linked my fingers with Nicky’s. “Thank you, sweetheart. I feel much better now.”
He nodded. “Would you feel even better if we followed up this healthy discussion with some vigorous romping in the sheets?”
